No Rest for the Wicked
by violetstars1039
Summary: This is a one shot that I had to write on innocence that I had to write for my creative writing class. Sam/OC, Dean/OC.


*Supernatural characters are not owned by me. I do own Lexi and Jacki. Please review!*

**There Ain't No Rest For The Wicked**

**_"Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked. Money don't grow on trees. We got bills to pay, we got mouths to feed, and there ain't nothing in this world for free." – Cage The Elephant_**

My name's Reilly Lehan. I'm a writer, well actually I'm attempting to be a writer since I haven't had anything substantial published as of yet. So I decided to do a piece on innocence. I thought the subject was an interesting one in this day and age when it seems kids grow up way too fast. I thought the best way to write this piece would be by conducting interviews with random people. It wasn't easy getting people to talk to me. People would look at me funny when I asked if I could interview them. I was sort of surprised at how jaded a nation we have become. Not everyone is out to get us. Some of us really do just want to have a conversation with you. I finally did get about twenty people to talk to me about innocence. It wasn't easy and it took me a long time to put this book together. In the end it was all worth it. It's set up kind of like a documentary. So there's an individual piece for each person I spoke with.

The first four accounts in this book I got solely by pure chance. I ran into Lexi outside of Denver, Colorado. I hadn't seen her in at least three years. Actually, it was since we graduated college. It was nice to see her again but I could tell she was antsy. She claimed she was on a road trip with her husband, brother in law and his wife. I just knew she was hiding something but I decided to ask her if I could interview her for my book. I have to say I was surprised she said yes and even more surprised that she was honest when she spoke.

_**Lexi**_

Innocence. The word alone brings images of childhood, freedom and a complete care free existence. We are so desperate to lose it that once we do we want it back again. Although, the loss of innocence isn't the kind of thing you can pin point exactly. It's not like when you lose your first tooth. I often wonder when the exact moment I lost my innocence was. Or maybe innocence isn't something you lose all at once; maybe we lose it piece by piece. Like paint peeling off a wall. Let me tell you about my own experience with innocence. I guess I should start by telling you my name. Although, I could give you any name and you would never know the difference now would you. I go by many names but since I'm talking about innocence I'll give you my real name. Mind you, only a hand full of people knows it. My name is Alexia Elizabeth Brennan-Winchester, Lexi for short. I also go by the names Tracy Mills, Marla Singer, Laurie Strode, Wendy Torrance and Marion Crane.

Now that you know my name, I guess we can get down to it. Innocence is something I lost long ago but I can tell you one thing, I can play innocent like no one's business. Seriously, I should win an Oscar. Anyway, you're probably wondering how a nice girl like me got involved in the con game. That's easy, my mother. Now I know you're probably saying here's another spoiled brat blaming their parents for everything. I'm not blaming her. I'm embracing who I am and where I come from. Let's face it people are products of their environment. I did try to be a normal productive member of society but that didn't last long. I went to college, got good grades, I even graduated with honors. I tried to keep my head down and my nose to the grind stone but I got sucked back in. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it because I do. There's no greater rush than pulling off a job and getting away clean.

When I think of innocence, I think of summer sun drenched afternoons with little girls running around in white cotton dresses. I remember having one of those afternoons when I was about four years old. Of course I only remember bits and pieces but I do recall the feeling. It was the fourth of July and we were in some small shore town. I was so excited to wear my new white summer dress since mom said we were going down town to see a parade and fireworks. We found a spot in the shade in front of the Five and Dime. I held my mother's hand tightly, partly from excitement and partly for fear of losing her in the crowd. I remember how excited I was watching the girls in their sparkling red, white and blue costumes twirling batons as they marched by. I tugged on my mom's hand begging to go into the Five and Dime to get me one. She just laughed and said I was too small for one. Before I could protest she picked me up pointing to the marching band's color guard that had stopped in front of us. I watched them in awe; they were much cooler than the baton twirlers. But the thing I wanted most in the world was a sparkler. It was beautiful and magical in my four year old eyes. I wanted to write my name with it like the older kids even though I didn't even know how to write my own name yet. I begged and pleaded with my mom for her to get me a sparkler. I even threw a fit of unimaginable proportions but it did nothing to sway her. Instead, she lifted me up into her arms and kissed my cheek saying, 'Not this year sweetie.'

_**Jacki**_

My name is Jacqueline Vasquez-Winchester. Though, only my mother calls me Jacqueline, everyone else it's Jack or Jacki. My friend/sister in law, Lexi, was talking to me about innocence in one of her um endearing; yeah we'll go with endearing, rants. Now, innocence is not something you would associate me with. I mean maybe when I was a little girl you could have but that didn't last very long. I grew up in a not so nice area of Los Angeles and my parents tried to keep me and my brothers sheltered and safe. They did their best but in that situation it was inevitable that we would grow up way too fast. Although, to this day my mother swears on the Virgin Mary that her sons are sweet little angels that were wrongfully accused but I know better. My brothers were all a bunch of dirty mentirosos. Not her perfect mijitos, they could do no wrong. They lost whatever innocence they had eons ago. I remember them very clearly jacking up the price on those fundraiser candy bars from a dollar to two dollars and keeping the money. They'd go out and buy themselves some must have video game and my mom never questioned them when they'd say they used money they had saved. What money? Those little hoodlums didn't get an allowance, didn't have a paper route. I guess my mom thought the lunch money they took off the younger kids was "saving" money.

When I was a little girl my dad used to take me crabbing with him. My mother would take a fit every time he would take me saying that it was for boys not for me. My father never listened to her and would take me anyway. The first time I went with him I was fascinated by these things. I had no idea what they were. I just watched as my dad dumped them out of his net into the bucket. They were climbing all over each other trying to get out but none of them ever reached the top of the bucket. They were all too busy with pulling each other down to escape. When we got home I sat at the kitchen table watching him but these blue crabs into my mom's stock pot. I had no clue what my father was doing. They scraped the sides of the pot trying to get out. When he finally lit the burner under the pot the noise was awful. The scrapping was louder and faster. The lid on top of the pot started banging, and then it was quiet. I watched as my father took the crabs out of the pot. They were blue when they went in and now they were red. In my innocence I was confused. He had to explain to me that he had killed the crabs by cooking them in the pot. I've never eaten crab till this day. I still remember the sounds of those poor crabs trying to escape the stock pot. It was an awful sound to my young ears.

That's not the thing that made me lose my innocence. Maybe it chipped a piece of it away but the real thing that did it was the death of my father. I was seven. I remember this because it was right after I made my first communion. My dad used to take me places a lot, just me and him. Probably because I was the youngest and his only daughter. I was his mija. It had been a perfect day. He took me to my favorite place, we went there all the time just me and him. He took me down to Venice Beach and people watched while we ate lunch. When we got home my father made me promise not to tell my mother that he had filled me up on junk food before we got out of the car. That was the last thing he ever said to me. My father was shot because of my oldest brother. It was a mistake; those bullets were meant for him. It was like it happened in slow motion, like in the movies. It didn't seem real to me at first. I remember watching the blood pool around his body, my mother running from the house yelling in Spanish. Then she was shaking me and checking to see if I was ok. The whole time I couldn't take my eyes off of my father. That moment changed me forever. I lost my childhood in the speed of a bullet. I've never forgiven my brother. It was his fault and I hope he rots for it.

_**Dean**_

I don't even know how I got dragged into this interview thing. You wanna know my name? My name's Dean and that's all I'm telling you. This isn't an autobiography. I told my lovely wife Lexi, we need to keep a low profile, guess this is her keeping a low profile. I can't believe she told you her real name. That's one of our cardinal rules. Never give your real name or what we do. She knows better than that. You wanna talk about innocence? Ok, we'll talk about innocence.

Innocence is a luxury. People don't realize that though. It's something special, something that people should hold on to. I lost mine way too young. And sometimes I wish I could've held on to it for a little bit longer. My younger brother, Sammy, stayed innocent longer than I did. Only cause I helped take care of him and made sure he got to be a kid. Though, he was constantly asking me questions. Sammy always was too smart for this own good. My wife was going on and on about how you can't pin point the exact moment you lose your innocence but I think I can come pretty damn close to mine.

I was four, almost five when my mother died. I didn't talk for almost a year. I remember that night very clearly. I remember the heat, the smell of the smoke and running bare foot through the cold wet grass. Yeah, I definitely lost more than just my mother that night. Maybe, Lexi has a point. Maybe you don't lose your innocence all at once because I remember when I was six I believed in sea monkeys, the sea monkey father and mother and kids that lived in the sea. I thought they were real just like I thought Santa at the mall was real. Even though, he was just some drunk that smelled like Peppermint Schnapps and leered at all the moms. But the point is I thought they were all real and you have to have some innocence to believe that crap.

_**Sam**_

My name's Sam winchester. I'm Dean's younger brother and Jacki's husband. Innocence is defined as simplicity; absence of guile or cunning; naiveté and comes from the Latin word innocentia. Innocence is an interesting subject. It's something that you don't realize you have until it's gone. I wish I was still innocent. When your biggest problem was how were you going to get out of eating your father's cooking, well that's not so bad is it? Childhood is supposed to be all about being innocent. Look at the lies children believe if you want an example. You know what I mean, pop rocks and coke killing you, if you make a face too long it'll get stuck, the tooth fairy being some big fat sadist or you'll go blind if you…..well you get the gist.

I was lucky enough to have a big brother to watch out for me. He protected me, kept me innocent for as long as he could. Of course, when I was a kid I hated that he would tell me I was too young to know things. I mean he was only four years older than me. We moved around a lot when we were growing up and I thought it was normal until I started going to school. That's when I began asking questions. I never asked my father though, I knew he wouldn't answer me but Dean I knew he'd answer my questions. I remember asking Dean what dad did for a living and he would tell me he was a super hero. I actually believed him until I was about six.

Even as a teenager Dean tried to protect me from the truth. My father on the other hand, didn't want me to go to college. He wanted me to be like him and Dean running scams and cons. I had to learn things like how to play poker, darts, and pool so I could hustle like my brother. I had to learn how to forge documents and I.D. cards. I didn't care about those things. I wanted to be a lawyer. I went to college and I got a way for four years. Somehow I got sucked back into it.

I guess my innocence just chipped away. It wasn't something that I lost all at once. It was little things. First finding out that my dad made his living by committing credit card fraud and running scams, that was a huge blow. I have to say the final straw was when I did a job with them. I felt horrible knowing that we just conned this woman out of her life savings. My innocence was gone even though I tried to hold on to the good part of myself.

_**Reilly**_

I got to speak to all four of the Winchesters. Each of them was uneasy about talking to me and that's when I realized who they were. Dean was wanted in St. Louis for a litany of charges. Although, when speaking to him I find it hard to believe that he's the guy that has been plastered all over the news for the past two months. Then again, Ted Bundy appeared to be a nice guy and look what he was capable of. What surprised me the most is how innocent, for lack of a better word, that Sam and Lexi appeared to be. I guess that is the point. Who would expect this clean cut seemingly earnest man to be up to no good or Lexi for instance with her wide green eyes and shy smile.

I did notice one thing though; they all had issues with their parents. Lexi was following in her mother's footsteps even though she tried to get away from her. Jacki had witnessed the death of her father as a young girl. While, Dean and Sam had a similar experience losing their mother at a young age as well. While listening to them tell their stories I could sense where they were going. They all grew up too fast realizing at an early age they were not children anymore. I wonder though, if they hadn't lost their parents if they would be different people. I watched as Tommy spoke, I could tell that he attempted to hold on to his goodness, that he still wanted to be an upstanding man. It's a shame how a single event turned four capable people onto the crooked path they walk.


End file.
